


Runaway Train

by jae_rhys



Series: Vices [2]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: A tiny bit of hope, Complete, Drug and alcohol references, F/M, Some angst, Sorry Not Sorry, colin is a wanker, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 13:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17940488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jae_rhys/pseuds/jae_rhys
Summary: Part 2 ofVices. Bitter after the breakup, Colin falls apart. But it's not a picnic for Alicia--or Colin's brother Eamon.





	Runaway Train

Colin flew home to Dublin the day after Alicia left for Las Vegas. Despite the friendly parting at the airport the day before, he was struggling and in a foul mood. He went straight to his home in the Irishtown district, closed the curtains, locked the doors, got blind drunk, and stayed that way for a solid week. He only sobered up because his brother physically dragged him out of bed and into the bathroom. 

‘Le’me ‘lone,’ Colin mumbled, still half-drunk.

‘Shut up,’ Eamon said, forcibly stripping Colin. ‘Gods man… you stink. Into the shower.’

‘I don’ wanna.’ 

‘And I don’t want to wash your grungy arse, but I will if you don’t fuckin get in the shower now,’ Eamon threatened. 

Colin didn’t move so Eamon put the water on cold and picked his younger brother up, depositing him mercilessly in the shower. 

‘Argh! Th’ fuck?! It’s cold you sodding arsehole!’

‘It’s all you fucking deserve. Fix the temperature yourself, and wash yourself--thoroughly, because I WILL do it myself.’

Cursing a blue streak, Colin turned the hot water on, then washed up. Eamon stood guard at the door and literally watched him. Rinsing off, Colin looked at Eamon. ‘Better?’ he asked nastily. ‘Getting there. Get out then brush your teeth.’

Cursing again, Colin chucked the bar of soap at Eamon, missing badly, and did as he was told. While he brushed, Eamon went to get him clean clothes which Colin pulled on angrily. ‘Why are you here? And how did you even get in?’

‘You gave me a key,’ Eamon reminded him. 

‘Remind me to take it back,’ Colin muttered wandering to the sitting room and lighting a cigarette. ‘You didn’t say why you’re here.’

‘Because I knew you’d be arse deep in alcohol and self-pity and probably trying to passively commit suicide by alcohol poisoning.’

‘What makes you think I’m self-pitying?’

‘Besides the fact that I saw it myself? Alicia called me.’

Colin froze, cigarette halfway to his mouth. ‘Repeat that,’ he said quietly. 

‘Alicia called me. She was worried because you wouldn’t answer your phone, return her texts or emails, and was afraid you’d drink yourself to death. Apparently she was half right.’

‘The _bitch_ ,’ he snarled. 

‘Don’t you even start,’ Eamon warned. 

‘She had no ri--’

‘She’s worried about you, you fuck.’

 _’SHE’S THE ONE WHO DUMPED ME!!’_ Colin roared.

Eamon didn’t move. ‘She’s allowed to still care about you.’

 _’The fuck she is!’_ Colin yelled, only a little more quietly. 

‘Colin, shut up. And don’t go calling her and yelling at her. She already feels like shit.’

‘Good,’ he said bitterly. ‘I won’t call. I don’t fuckin need her.’

Eamon wisely said nothing in reply to that. He did, however, ask, ‘When did you last eat?’

Colin thought for a moment. ‘What day is it?’ 

‘Thursday.’

‘Few days ago… Sunday. Or Monday. Something like that…’

 

With a sigh, Eamon pushed himself to his feet. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything edible to eat-in?’ Colin looked up at Eamon with a raised eyebrow. ‘Right. How’s your head?’

‘Sore but tolerable.’

‘Put some shoes on then. We’re going to the diner.’

‘Eamon…’ Colin groaned. 

‘Fuckin do it, Col!’ 

This time Colin didn’t argue. His brother rarely got angry or aggressive. He could be almost a doormat, so the fact that he was sniping at Colin meant that he was more than just “very” pissed off.

‘Why are we going out?’

‘Because we’re going to talk and I want to do it in a place where you’ll keep your mouth shut and not cause a scene.’

_Fuck…_

~~~

Colin took his sunglasses off then put them right back on. Even in the back of the diner it was too bright for his hangover without them. Neither man looked at the menu; they’d been coming here since they were kids, and the heart of the menu didn’t change. 

‘How ye Eam-- well be still my beatin’ heart. Look who’s deigned to come round.’ The waitress was in her fifties and had been there for longer than Colin had been alive. She knew all the Farrells. 

‘Hi Maebh,’ Colin said, almost sheepishly. 

‘Seen you on me telly. Ain’t seen you in here though. Thought maybe you’d got too big for ol’ Dublin.’

‘Never too big for home, Maebh,’ Colin said wearily, forcing a smile. 

‘You poorly?’

‘Not too bad, just tired.’

‘He’s brown bottle flu,’ Eamon said flatly

Colin kicked Eamon under the table, but he largely missed and the blow barely touched his brother. 

‘Tsk, I should only give ya water.’

‘Please don’t,’ Colin groaned. 

‘Only because I don’t want your sick on me floor,’ she said. ‘Coffee it is.’ She hurried away and Colin glared at Eamon.

‘Tell the whole of Dublin, why don’cha?’

‘Now I don’t have to. She will.’

Several minutes later, When Colin had his coffee and Eamon his tea, Colin finally looked properly at his brother. ‘What’d she say to you?’

‘Who?’ Eamon asked innocently. 

‘Don’t play games. Lise. And how did she even find you?’

Eamon was tempted to continue to tease Colin but he was tired and wanted to simply get the discussion over. ‘You apparently told her my name. She, according to herself, spent hours in the library on the internet. She went through the phone book, looked up all the Farrells in Dublin, narrowed it to people with my or Claudine’s name or initials, started calling and Bob’s your uncle.’

Colin frowned into his mug. ‘That… would’ve been a lot of work,’ he said softly.

‘You still doubt that she cares for you?’ Eamon asked pointedly. When Colin didn’t reply, Eamon said, ‘Look at me Col,’ nudging Colin’s leg with his foot. The younger man met his brother’s eyes and Eamon saw the pain in them. ‘Colin… trust me. She cares about you.’ 

‘Then why…?’

Eamon took a drink of his tea and made a face. It had gone cold. When Maebh returned to refill Colin’s mug, Eamon asked for one as well. He didn’t answer until he had coffee and they were alone. ‘All I have to go on is what she told me. She didn’t want to. She says that she told you she wanted to keep seeing you, just not living together, and you said no.’

‘I didn--’ He stopped. A fragment of conversation came back to him.

_’I’d like to be near you. I really don’t want to completely break up.’_

_‘I know. But… at first at least… I think that I do need that space._

‘Shit.’

‘Yep. It’s sort of appropriate, then, that you’ve basically been punishing yourself.’

 _’Shit…’_ He dropped his head to his hands.

‘You should call her. She left her number.’

Colin didn’t say anything. He stared at the booth’s table, mind racing as fast as the hangover would let it. He missed her, but he was still raw. And maybe it was his fault that there were thousands of kilometers between them, but she was still the one that wanted to not live together and to put some distance between them so it was at least half her fault, right?

‘Col?’

‘I’ll take her number. I don’t know when I’ll call.’

‘When, or if?’

‘Yes,’ came the terse reply. 

‘You can be such a fuckin gobshite,’ Eamon snapped. ‘Since you won’t talk to _her_ , keep _me_ up to date so I can reassure her that you haven’t fuckin killed your damn fool self ay? Or so I can tell her when you fuckin ‘ave.’ Eamon’s accent was getting much heavier, which only happened as he lost control of his temper. He stood and threw money on the table. 

Colin started to protest that he’d pay, and Eamon shook his head. ‘I don’t want to be beholden to _you_ for a cup of coffee.’ It might not have sounded like an insult, but Colin knew it for what it was. It was actually the most hurtful thing Eamon had said that day. He stormed out leaving Colin staring after him. 

~~~

Over the next several weeks, Colin sent terse SMS messages to Eamon every couple days, only so that the elder Farrell didn’t barge into his house again. Each time Eamon got the message, he’d ring Alicia, just to reassure her, as best as he could, that Colin was alive. He never said Colin was ‘okay.’ He wasn’t, and Alicia would never believe it. During these weeks, she and Eamon spoke longer than necessary. Eamon wanted to know more about the girl who’d twisted his brother in knots, and Alicia wanted to know more about Colin, and his family. 

Eamon tried to draw out information about Alicia’s past, but she was almost as reticent about it with him as she was with Colin. She did open up a little, on the condition that he never tell Colin anything.

‘Why don’t you want him to know?’ Eamon asked one night after she’d told him about some of her time in the very broken US foster care system. 

‘Because I think he’ll pity me.’

‘It’s better to fight because you won’t tell him anything?’

‘Anger I can handle. Pity… I can’t.’

‘You two are the most fucking stubborn people… I swear.’ Alicia remained silent. She knew it wasn’t truly a judgment, but it was still a little hurtful. ‘If you’d open up--both of you to each other…’

‘Well, right now he won’t talk to me at all so that’s a bit difficult,’ Alicia said bitterly. She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

‘I didn’t take it personally,’ Eamon replied gently. ‘I know he’s being a cunt right now. Unfortunately when he’s on the piss… which seems to be constantly lately--’

‘It’s how he is. I know. He was drunk or high most of the time here.’

‘Can I ask what he uses?’

‘He was using speed, Crystal, coke, and occasionally H. I think maybe some pain pills’

‘H?’ He paused. _’Heroin?’_

‘Yeah. I tried to keep him away from that and coke but… there were a few times he’d use them. Those were bad nights.’

‘Bad before or after?’ 

There was a very long pause, then, ‘After.’

‘Did he… hurt you?’ 

Another pause, longer this time. Eamon could feel his anger boiling again. ‘He didn’t hit me. But… I had bruises a few times. He was mostly just mean.’ Eamon’s silence worried Alicia. ‘Please don’t go after him for it or say that I told you,’ she said quietly. 

Eamon had wanted to do precisely that, and had debated it. But that was a confrontation so far out of his comfort zone he knew it wouldn’t happen. ‘All right,’ he said quietly. ‘If… you work things out… I don’t want you putting up with that though.’

She sighed. ‘I know how to handle that sort of thing, Eamon. I had plenty of years of practise.’ 

~~~

Colin spent those weeks loving his life, or that’s what he tried to convince himself. He partied every night, in one or two of several clubs he preferred, never leaving alone, and never with the same woman twice. No attachments. Not again. 

One morning, some four and a half weeks after Colin had returned, he woke up alone which was disorientating. He _knew_ he hadn’t gone to bed alone. He heard a noise and saw the woman sorting through his trouser pockets. 

‘Th’ fuck you doin?’ he demanded, his mouth cottony. Instead of answering, she dropped his jeans and walked out. He jumped up and followed her. ‘I asked you a fucking question,’ he snarled, grabbing her arm. 

‘Let go of me,’ she said, suddenly afraid. 

‘Not till your thievin arse is outside.’ He pulled her toward the door. 

‘I… I’m not dressed!’ 

‘Should’ve done that before you tried to get into me wallet. Out with the trash, cunt.’ He wrenched his front door open and shoved her out, clad only in her panties. After he closed and locked the door, he retrieved her clothes and handbag. Before he tossed them out to her, he made sure she hadn’t actually nicked anything of his. Once he was certain, he opened the door and chucked them out. ‘Get the fuck out of here now.’

He watched from the window as she dressed, yanking her clothes and shoes on. And as Eamon walked up the path to his door. It said quite a lot that Eamon barely glanced at the woman despite her carrying on. Colin opened the door, blocking the entrance. 

‘Whaddya want?’ he asked his brother, taking a long drag on the cigarette he’d lit only a moment ago. 

‘To see for myself that you’re alive and not just having someone message me. So that when mum asks if I’ve seen you, I’m not lying when I say yes.’

‘See? I’m alive.’

Eamon pushed Colin, trying to get past him. Colin, who was larger and more skilled at physical confrontation, didn’t move. ‘Dammit Colin, let me the fuck in!’ he shouted, trying to hold back tears of frustration and fear. 

Colin sighed and stepped aside. ‘Fuckin come in then.’ He stalked to the sitting room, dropping to his sofa. Eamon followed, eyes shifting to take in the state of the house. 

‘What’s the story with her?’ he asked, jerking his thumb toward the window to indicate the woman who still hadn’t left. 

‘Some piece of ass I brought home last night. Caught her goin through me trousers this morning.’

‘Was she worth it?’ Colin shrugged. He didn’t even remember the sex. Eamon closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly together to keep from saying anything. ‘You only drinkin, or you still using too?’

Colin raised an eyebrow. ‘How’d you kno--. Alicia.’ 

‘Yeah. It wasn’t deliberate on her part, but… yeah.’

‘What’s she up to, then?’

‘None of your damn business,’ Eamon replied. He was mentally exhausted, but his tone was firm. He looked around the living room, taking in the array of bottles and can, and overflowing ashtrays. Then he looked at his younger brother. Dark circles ringed Colin’s eyes, which were so bloodshot there was barely any white showing. He’d lost weight, and just looked… _dead_. 

‘Why do you always do this to yourself?’ 

‘Do what?’

‘Get drunk or high off your mind, bringing random women home, not remembering anything... What do you even get from this?’

‘It makes me feel something else.’ Colin looked almost haunted.

‘Something other than what?’

‘Emptiness.’

And Eamon’s heart nearly broke. The one word explained so fuckin much. ‘Christ Col…’

‘Don’t. Don’t fuckin pity me.’

Eamon shook his head. ‘You and Alicia even sound alike.’

‘What?’ Colin was confused by the seeming non-sequitur. 

‘She doesn’t tell you about her past because she thinks you’ll pity her and she “can’t handle pity”.’

‘She tell you about it?’

‘Very little. And no, I can’t tell you.’ Eamon sighed and got up, wandering to Colin’s refrigerator, wondering if he had any beer. He did, and Eamon grabbed two. Sitting down again he offered one to Colin. ‘Hair of the dog, ay?’ 

Colin was suspicious, but accepted it. ‘You never drink. Why’re you having one? Especially at… nine am.’

‘Because I don’t like you much right now, and I’m hoping a drink will take the edge off that a bit.’

‘So why’re you even here?’

‘Because I still fucking love you. And I like Alicia. And I think your stupid arse belongs with her.’ 

‘She broke up with me, remember?’

‘Yeah, except she didn’t and you fuckin well know that. I donno if you’re tryin to convince me, or yourself, but We both know it’s a fuckin lie.’

Colin closed his eyes and took a long drink. ‘What if I let her back in and she hurts me again?’

‘And what if you hurt her?’

Colin’s head snapped up and he looked at Eamon. ‘Did she say something?’

‘I _meant_ if you break her heart. But… let’s talk about what _you’re_ talking about.’ Colin winced but remained quiet. Eamon set his beer down and shifted, facing Colin squarely, and said, ‘Spill it, Col. What did you do?’

‘I didn’t _hit_ her,’ he said desperately. Eamon believed him, since Alicia had said the same. 

‘So what _did_ you do?’ 

‘A few times… I grabbed her, her wrist or her arm. Tight. I’d drag her or shove her forward or down.’

‘Kick her?’

‘No!’ Colin looked horrified. 

‘Call her names?’ 

Colin opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally… ‘I… guess I did, a couple times.’ 

Eamon closed his eyes, sitting very still trying not to let any of his disappointment or anger show.

‘You hate me now.’

‘No.’ Eamon sighed again. He looked at Colin, meeting his eyes. ‘I’m disappointed.’

Colin hated that word. He’d heard it from his mum only a handful of times and it hurt worse than a slap. This was the first time his brother had said it and it was at least as painful. He lit another cigarette and stared toward the window. 

‘I miss her, brother,’ he said softly.

‘I know. I’ve known for the past month.’

‘Does she want to talk to me?’

‘She said to give you her number when you’re ready.’ Colin nodded. He was ready. 

Eamon pulled a piece of paper from his wallet and handed it over. ‘I’m going to get food for breakfast. ‘Call her. I’ll be back in a bit.’

It took several minutes for Colin to pick up the phone, and his hands were shaking so he misdialed three times. He listened to the phone ringing, three, four, five times. He was just about to hang up when he heard her breathless voice. ‘H’lo?’ Colin couldn’t speak, and he heard again, ‘Hello??’

Finally he managed to choke out, ‘Lise…’


End file.
